He was holding the reins tight now and the horse had stopped. White steam was coming off the powerful animal and its dark-brown eyes watched me with a Lord of the Universe gaze, wounded that he had been caught by a pygmy.

The rider’s face was like the country around us: wan and drained of colour. His skin was transparent and there was blond, golden down around his mouth. His checked shirt and blue jeans had both faded after a lot of washing and under the shirt he wore a greyish-white jersey with tiny black dots in the wool.

As I stopped by him I could see he had also – vaguely – recognised me.

I had to clear my throat before I could say anything. ‘Roar? I hadn’t expected to find you here.’

He nodded, twice; the horse arched its neck and pawed at the ground. He tightened the reins.

‘You … remember me?’

He nodded again.

‘How—?’283

I wanted to ask how he had been – I knew Roar from a case almost ten years ago – but he broke in: ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘OK. That wasn’t why I came here. I’m here on a completely different matter.’

As though that was a relief, he said: ‘It became much too cramped for me in Øystese. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I returned … to Bergen.’

‘Who to?’

‘No one! To myself. I lived on the streets for several years.’

‘Your mother – how is she?’

‘I never talk to her, never see her.’

‘And then you started on drugs?’

‘You have to believe in something, don’t you.’ He had raised his voice and the horse arched its neck again as if to make clear it didn’t like what was going on.

‘Believe in? Drugs?’

‘Yes? No one cares about kids anymore once we’re hooked. I lived on the streets for three years. Do you think anyone came and asked after me, other than those who wanted to … to use me?’

‘There must’ve been social workers, the outreach unit?’

‘With a budget big enough to buy headed notepaper, yes. They don’t cover a square metre of what goes on. If I hadn’t been stoned – never mind from what – I would’ve finished myself off long ago.’

I gulped, straightened up and said: ‘Anyway, now you’re here. And that must surely mean you’ve decided to do something new?’

He looked past me, to the white farmhouse and the red outbuilding. ‘At least here I have a roof over my head,’ he said in a faint voice.284

I followed his gaze. Behind the buildings dark forests rose in a long curve towards the central parts of Lindås. In a couple of places thin plumes of smoke spiralled to the sky. Otherwise the area seemed dead, like somewhere you should have state wilderness aid for if you wanted to stay.

I said thinly: ‘Actually I came here because of Ruth.’

He didn’t react.

‘Ruth Solheim.’

He still didn’t react.